


Start of a Bond

by LieselSolo



Category: Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Corellia (Star Wars), F/M, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Orphans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22886362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LieselSolo/pseuds/LieselSolo
Summary: Short fic about how Han and Qi'ra first met.
Relationships: Qi'ra & Han Solo, Qi'ra/Han Solo
Kudos: 4





	Start of a Bond

The mush that ten-year-old Han had been given was bland and tasteless, but when the pain in his stomach was shaking his body and overtaking his thoughts, _any_ food felt like it was sent by the gods. He gobbled up spoonful after spoonful, not caring if any got on his face or clothes – they were barely "clothes" anymore after Han had worn them for several weeks straight anyway. He hoped this "Lady Proxima" person would give him new clothes – it would feel good to not have to wear these ripped, dirty ones anymore. New shoes to replace his own that had ripped soles would be nice too. Hopefully the guys who found him would let him have a bath too – by now he could smell his _own_ body odor.

He would be stealing for whoever this Lady Proxima person was now. Probably his parents wouldn't like that, but they were dead now anyway. Besides, would they prefer for him to starve to death on the streets? At least here he would have food and shelter. His chest tightened as he tried not to think about his mother's hugs or his father's smile. No, no, that was his old life. This was his _new_ life. Maybe he'd even be able to steal some for himself and save up enough to get off of Corellia when he grew up.

Like his dad wanted . . .

No, no, don't think about that . . .

"Hey, you got any loot?"

Han looked up and there was an older boy – probably at least thirteen or fourteen, walking after a girl with reddish hair who looked around the same age. The girl's hands were shoved deep in her pockets as if she were hiding something.

"If I _had_ any loot," said the girl in a slightly accented voice, "what makes you think I'd tell _you?"_

"Don't play dumb, Qi'ra," said the boy. "I know you got somethin'."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," said the girl, "but if you want it, you'd have to _get_ it first!"

Han let his spoon clink against his bowl, which got the attention of both the boy and the girl.

The boy suddenly grinned at Han as if he were fresh meat. "Well look Qi'ra, we've got a greenie."

"Why do you want her loot?" Han asked. "She stole it fair and square – you should've just stolen your OWN loot!"

The boy glared down at him, his pudgy face wrinkling in disgust. "Phew, you STINK. Proxima's goons just got you off the street, didn't they?"

"Hey!" exclaimed the girl. "That's not called for."

"Oh?" said the boy, reaching over and flicking at Han's hair. "You look way too scrawny to be a good thief. Remember Proxima's rules, kid. You don't deliver, you don't eat, got that?" He pinched Han's earlobe, making him cry out in pain and drop his bowl, spilling the mush all over the floor. "I don't think you're gonna be eatin' much. Wouldn't surprise me if you were dead in a week."

Suddenly, the girl punched him in the stomach, making him release Han's ear and double over himself. "So you like picking on greenies just to make yourself look better?" the girl shouted. "You're pathetic."

"I'm tellin' someone!" the boy shrieked.

"Fine," said the girl, "then you'll _also_ have to tell them that you were picking on a greenie."

The boy said nothing in response and instead slinked away, after which the girl turned her attention to Han. "Sorry about that."

Han swallowed, his right hand reflexively squeezing his pocket. If kids here were looking for "loot," they might come after his most treasured possession . . . the only possession he had left.

"What do you have there?" the girl asked, stepping around the spilled mush and sitting on the bench next to him.

"Nothing!" Han shrunk up against the wall as if that would make him disappear.

The girl smirked. "Liar. Come on, show me and I'll clean up the mess."

Han said nothing, squeezing his pocket as hard as he could in case this girl made any sudden movements.

"Oh, all right," said the girl. "Show me what you got and I'll show you what I got."

"And how do I know you won't take it?" Han exclaimed.

"I won't, I promise," said the girl, giving him a gentle smile that reminded Han of his mother's. "Look, I'll show you what I've got first. I'm Qi'ra, by the way."

Han gulped. "I'm Han."

"Han," Qi'ra repeated as she reached into her own pocket. "Welcome to Lady Proxima's hideout, greenie."

"Why do you call me that?"

Qi'ra shrugged. "It's nothing bad – it just means that you're new and haven't learned the ropes yet. Now look." To Han's surprise, she pulled a candy bar out of her pocket. "See? I'll share it with you if you show me what you've got."

With the mush ruined and Han's stomach still growling, the candy sure looked tempting. He also had a feeling that he wouldn't be fed any more tonight. "All right," he said slowly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his dad's lucky dice, letting them dangle from his fingers.

"They ain't real gold," he was quick to say. "I don't think they're worth crap, but they're special to me."

Qi'ra grinned, gently batting one of the dice with her finger. "They're still pretty. Where'd you get them?"

"They . . . they were my dad's." Han felt his eyes starting to well up, but no, no, he wasn't going to cry, not in front of her. "He called them lucky."

Qi'ra batted at the dice again. "Well, you're gonna need some luck if you're gonna survive here. I'd suggest putting those away before someone thinks they're real gold."

Han obeyed, stuffing the dice back into his pocket and hoping that boy from earlier hadn't seen them. If someone _did_ see them and _did_ think they were real gold, would that person try to take them when he was sleeping or something? Would he have to keep them on his person all the time?

"All right," Q'ira was saying as she pulled the wrapping off the candy bar. "As promised." She broke the candy in two and handed Han the piece that was obviously bigger. "Eat up."

If his stomach weren't still crying for food, Han might have asked why Qi'ra gave him the bigger piece or even protested that since Qi'ra was the one who stole the candy, she should have the bigger piece, but his hunger overtook any desire to talk about fairness. He gobbled up his piece so fast that he hardly noticed the sticky sweetness.

Qi'ra giggled a bit. "You've got some chocolate on your face. Here." She pulled her sleeve over her hand and used it to wipe Han's face.

"Thanks," Han mumbled. "I guess I'm not gonna get anything else to eat tonight?"

Qi'ra's face fell. "Probably not, but if you're a good thief, you'll get rewarded. A lot of us here are just like you – our parents are dead, we were wandering the streets because there was nowhere else to go, no one and nothing left."

_No one and nothing left . . ._

No, Han _wasn't_ going to cry.

He wasn't going to think about his father holding him in his lap and talking about how one day they'd fly away from Corellia.

He _wasn't . . ._

"Hey," Qi'ra said, her mouth slowly curving into a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be all right. I'll help you learn the ins and outs. It's not fun here, but it's better than starving on the streets. Who knows, one day we might even get out of here."

Han took a deep breath. "Thanks."

Qi'ra was still smiling as she bit into her piece of the candy bar. "It's nice to meet you, Han."

Something about the kindness in her voice made Han actually smile back. "It's nice to meet you too, Qi'ra."

THE END


End file.
